


of course it isn't pretty (nothing holy ever is)

by godmarked



Series: PROMPTOBER 2020 [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Calamity Ganon is Human (Kind Of), Character Study, Mentions of Racism, Politics (barely), Worldbuilding, princess zelda is a bamf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godmarked/pseuds/godmarked
Summary: At the heart of Calamity Ganon, there is a long-suffering prince with the mark of power and hatred in his heart. With Link gone, the Champions dead, and the world ending, Princess Zelda marches into her castle and puts an end to it all.(or, a conversation between two old enemies)
Series: PROMPTOBER 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945378
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	of course it isn't pretty (nothing holy ever is)

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt #01: this is a tomb for the both of us.**   
>  _prompt from 'castle in the sky' / title from brenna twohy's 'forgive me my salt'_

The world is ending. 

Zelda walks through the ruins of her kingdom on her own, white ceremonial dress hanging off of her in muddy tatters, a strange sort of calm washing over her. Golden bracelets glint at her wrists, and a triangle of light glows on the back of her hand as she crosses the bridge into the castle.  _ Her _ castle, by blood, by birthright, by the seventeen years of her life she has spent within its walls. A part of her is outraged, strangely; she has never held any particular fondness for all the bells and whistles that come with being Hylian royalty. But this is her home nonetheless, and a part of her deep down rages to see it in despair, corpses half-swallowed by the muck. She knows every corridor, every cobblestone, and with every step she takes she leaves footprints of molten gold behind. 

She thinks her whole body might be turning into liquid light, the same way that the Calamity’s malice burns around her; viscous and void-dark. It’s like rotted, congealed blood, she muses, and that sends her mind spiralling along the track of blood- a ferrous liquid that runs through every vein in her kingdom, from Rito to Zora to Gerudo to Goron. Zelda thinks, almost absently, that if her blood is liquid gold, now, that this malice that is swallowing her kingdom must be Ganon’s blood in kind. 

It isn’t that she’s not feeling things properly, with her absent-minded tangents and theories. Her brain has always worked fast, faster than it has any right to, and now she feels- unhinged, in a way. Uncontained.  _ Free _ , some might put it, but the word leaves a bad taste in her mouth when she thinks it. Who would want to experience this fleeting freedom, stained by grief and rage, only to submit to another prison? 

Link won’t die. She made sure of that herself, when she restored the Shrine of Resurrection. Zelda doesn’t know when her knight- her dear, ever-loyal,  _ brave  _ Champion -will awake. But she knows how the stories go, of skyward-bound heroes and boys adrift in time, champions of both this realm and that of Twilight. She knows what happens to girls like her, princesses (who are explorers, and warriors, and politicians) who must aid the hero in his journey. She knows what will happen to her (princess, scholar, inventor) when she faces Ganon on her own, no knight at her side.

She knows he will come for her, some day.

It doesn’t make the task at hand less daunting, though. The darkness is so thick near the Sanctum that Zelda can barely breathe, has to lift her goddess-marked hand and let light pour out of her to clear the path.

A part of her- the girl raised on her father’s tales, raised to fear the Calamity for the monster that it is, the girl who has read of boar-men and monsters beyond even her worst dreams -is expecting a horrible creature of nightmarish composition to be waiting for her. But she isn’t surprised, when she walks into that darkness, at the man she finds there. Her father’s tales always said  _ beast _ , but Zelda has read every book in the royal library, begged out stories of her ancestors from any bard who had a tale to share. Once, a wizened Sheikah woman had offered her a tale that Zelda always doubted came from truth, but she could never quite forget, either. The King of the Gerudo, a man who saw his people dead by scorching sun at day and cruel winds at night; who looked across at the rolling green fields of Hyrule and the winds brought to them by Farore; who could not help but covet those winds. A king, driven mad by the deaths of his people, who sought to conquer their lands because it was the only way he could fathom to end the suffering of his own people.

Zelda never could figure out if the tale held any particular accuracy to their own histories. Urbosa confirmed the legends of the Gerudo Kings to be true, although when asked about the naming tradition, her lips pressed into a thin line and she would change the subject.  _ Come, little bird, let us not discuss silly little myths.  _

Myths that Urbosa’s people were still being punished for.

Zelda would find herself in possession of more sympathy for the Gerudo kings of myths if not for the fact that Urbosa- her best friend, her mentor, the closest thing she’s had to a mother since the queen died -is dead by the Calamity’s hand. But she is a princess, and by that meter she is a politician, so when she opens her eyes to the Sanctum, the first thing she does is curtsey. 

“King Ganondorf,” she addresses, voice unflinching even though she has mud in her hair and she could die here at any moment. She supposes she’s had plenty of practice dealing with kings who don’t like her, at least, so Zelda straightens up and does not flinch when she meets the man’s eyes. “I’ve come to formally request you stop your siege on my lands, and to negotiate for peace between us.” 

His eyes are amber-yellow, his skin dark terracotta and mottled with streaks of malice, and he’s dressed in clothing similar to what Urbosa would wear for ceremonies. He looks Gerudo, strong-shouldered and tall, and Zelda has to tilt her head back to look at him. He also looks  _ bored _ , as if the destruction of her kingdom isn’t even a  _ victory _ , and it makes her blood boil.

There’s a Triforce on his hand, a different shard than her own lit up by the blessing of the goddess. “Why,” the king drawls, turning to face her properly, “would I agree to a ceasefire while I’m  _ winning _ ?” 

Zelda folds her hands in front of her to stop herself from making fists. There’s strings of malice dripping from the ceiling, closing the Sanctum off from the rest of the world, a darkened meeting hall for two thirds of Hylia’s chosen. “Because,” Zelda replies, and then she slips into the Gerudo language, loose-tongued and rolling off of her lips like a native, “ _ I speak not only for the Hylians, but for your people as well _ .” 

He stiffens, and his gaze goes from condescending to- well, apprehensive. “Clever trick, little Hylian witch,” he says. “ _ Very well. Speak your case, Princess of Hyrule.”  _

There are plenty of things Zelda could say to this man. He’s an imposing, horrible man, responsible for the deaths of thousands, responsible for the Sheikah technology’s corruption, responsible for the death of her Champions- her _ friends _ . But when Zelda looks at the lines of his face, she can’t help but see something of Urbosa in him, the line of Gerudo royalty in his cheekbones and the set of his mouth. She knows, deep down, that this man hasn’t been a man in a very long time, and if the legends are true, he remembers it all.

So instead of saying anything about the blame of this situation, or what’s  _ right _ , or that she just wants him to stop killing her fucking people, Zelda takes a deep breath and says: “I want to reinstate the Gerudo Nation as it’s own sovereign, seperate to Hyrule, but with the full rights of allyship offered in apology for Hyrule’s treatment of your people.” 

She says it in a rush, nowhere near the calm political façade she’d meant to use, but Ganondorf’s eyes widen. Zelda’s never told anyone that this is what she wants to do- not Link, not Impa, not even Urbosa herself. She wanted to see her friend as Chief in the truest sense, not subject to the approval of a man who considered their people  _ lesser _ . Not subject to anyone’s approval at all. Zelda knows she will never see that day, but Urbosa had a wife, Imami, and a child, Oteka- a widow to succeed her and an heir apparent. 

Zelda lifts her gaze to Ganondorf’s and sets her jaw. “I can’t do that if I’m  _ dead _ ,” she adds pointedly. 

Ganondorf looks away. “Will they not receive those rights with the Hylian royal family dead?” he asks. “Would killing you not achieve that freedom for the- for  _ my  _ people, and in a tenth of the speed?” 

“It wouldn’t,” Zelda says, and this is something she  _ knows _ . She’s studied this, envisioned borders, trade routes, how to use the Sheikah Slate and still-locked shrines to her advantage. She isn’t well suited to fighting monsters, but restoring the Gerudo Nation, and eventually the Zora, Gerudo, and Rito is a project that she’s poured hours of research into, crammed in between lessons in prayer and studying the Guardians. This is what Zelda is good at. “Hylian Royalty follows bloodlines, yes, but more importantly it follows divine right- even if the Hylian royal family were all to perish, or say, a queen was unable to produce an heir, Hylia would still choose her champions- Wisdom, Courage, Power,” she recites. “So instead of having a queen who wants nothing more than to set your people free as they should be, you’ll have a child raised on the knowledge that you decimated our lands and killed our entire royal family.” 

Ganondorf is glaring something fierce, but Zelda won’t back down from him. She takes a physical step closer, pressing onwards. “And that child, the next Zelda-” what a thought, that her name isn’t anything more than just another title, something to be passed down or inherited so that some other child can suffer like she did and continue the cycle that leads them here every time “-will be told that you were once a Gerudo King, Ganondorf. That child will continue to fear what your people could be, and when they grow into a ruler they will continue to deny your people the rights to be anything more.” 

For a long moment, Ganondorf is silent, and there is a spark of hope in Zelda’s chest that she’s gotten through to him. That there truly is a man beneath the monster, that the king before her is more than a phantom designed to torment her. 

His lips curl into a smile. That spark of hope dies. “We can surely compromise,” Ganondorf says. “And what better way to secure an alliance for a newborn kingdom than to arrange a marriage to the heiress of a much older one?” Zelda regrets taking the step towards him, because he uses it to his advantage now, taking a step towards  _ her _ , so they’re barely an inch apart. “I’ve always wanted a politically-minded wife, princess.” 

She almost agrees, despite the look in his eye, despite the fact that it’s a horrible idea. She almost agrees, despite the fact that he makes  _ princess  _ sound more like a condescending pet name than a title. 

“Oh,” she says instead, smiling sadly up at him. “I’m not going to leave this place, am I?” 

He almost looks apologetic when he meets her eye. “No,” he says softly. “You’re not.” 

And then the walls of malice close in on her, and it’s like she’s been electrocuted, pure  _ hatred _ flowing through her veins, clawing at her insides. It’s like a virus, contaminating her cells one by one, turning the molecular structure of her body against her. If Zelda were anyone else, it would have killed her, infected her, turned her into something monstrous just like the Divine Beasts and the Guardians. 

But Zelda is not anyone else. She is Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule, descendant of the Goddess Hylia herself, bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, favored by Nayru, Crown Princess of Hyrule. She is Zelda, which means she is princess and warrior and explorer and politician, she is scholar and inventor and priestess. She is the first light of dawn, the sparkle of sunlight on water. She is a child learning to speak their mother tongue. She is the way knowledge is handed down, the way that even when a civilization falls, people will spend years of their life trying to figure out who they were. She is, like all wisdom, constantly growing, constantly learning, but most importantly, she is unending. 

Her hands reach into the darkness, ablaze with golden light, and she follows the thread tied to her soul. It splinters, one end leading away; back towards Link, she’d imagine, so she follows the path that stays close, winding herself in under Ganondorf is lit under her hands, eyes wide with fear. “I wish I could have fixed things,” she tells him, hands cupping his face even as the darkness eats at her and the light burns away at him. “I wish things could have been better.” 

“RELEASE ME!” he roars, but he can’t quite pull away from her. Zelda isn’t going to let him. “I’M GOING TO  _ WIN!”  _

“No,” she says, an echo of his earlier words, “you’re not.” She cradles him close, reaches down into the Calamity to find the soul that matches hers, the King who was marked by Hylia and favored by Din. “This is a tomb for the both of us,” she whispers, holding Ganondorf close. “Next time, we’ll do better. Next time,  _ I’ll  _ do better.” 

“No,” Ganondorf groans, but it’s weak. “I-  _ centuries _ of fighting,” he gets out, and Zelda hushes him gently. 

“Rest,” she says, and she speaks it with the voice of the Goddess. “We can try again, I promise.” 

And then the swirling mass of light and dark swallows them both, and Zelda feels nothing. 

**/**

When Link wakes her up, he tells her that she’s been speaking to him. It’s news to Zelda- she remembers speaking with Ganondorf, and then the dizzying swirl of light and dark, and then a long, endless stretch of nothing. “Huh,” she says aloud. “There’s something interesting in there about the shared consciousness theory I mentioned- wait, do you remember?” she frets. “It was, well, a century ago.” 

Link smiles at her, soft around the edges in a way that’s new but not uninviting. “I remember,” he says, like he’s proud of it, like he’s glad of all the things he’s managed to recall her pseudo-scientific theological ramblings made the cut. “But I could use a reminder.” 

Zelda smiles back, a little bit helplessly, all human. She doesn’t feel any power in her veins, doesn’t feel anything other than the sun on her face and the grass between her toes. “Yeah,” she says softly. “But first, I need- well, a change of clothes,” she admits, looking down at her century-old dress, stained with mud. “But I need to speak with the Gerudo chief,” she tells Link. 

“Riju?” he asks, blinking. “It’ll take us a few days to get there, and I figured you’d want to stay in the Central Hyrule region. Why do you want to talk to her?” 

And Zelda thinks,  _ a Gerudo male is supposed to be born every hundred years _ . And Zelda thinks,  _ I need to ask her if she wants the title of queen, or if she’d prefer to use chief when I declare I am not the ruler of her people _ . And Zelda says, tilting her head back top let the sun wash over her face better, “I’m trying to be better.” 

Link offers her his hand, and when she takes it, he beams. “Then who am I to get in your way?” he asks, and he leads her to where his horse is waiting, telling her about how beautiful the desert is, and how he’ll need to see if he still has a spare set of Vai clothes- and isn’t _ that _ a story, he laughs, and Zelda holds his hand and listens, and for the first time in a hundred years (or longer), she breathes easy. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi y'all!! welcome to promptober, where i try to write a fic for every day of the month! these will hopefully be 2k minimum, from a variety of fandoms, and every prompt is a quote from a studio ghibli movie!!!! i'm real excited for y'all to see these little oneshots!! 
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zackwritesstuff) and [tumblr!](https://crossroadboy.tumblr.com/)


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